Reminiscence
by MissMouseMD
Summary: What the characters went through as kids. One Chapter for each character. Read and Review, no flames, please. Now finished!
1. Chase

**Title: **Reminiscence

**Author:** MissMouseMD

**Rating: **T, language

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House, M.D., yadda yadda yadda, you get the picture.

Robert Chase

Age 7

He sat under the bed, covering his ears. No matter what anyone said, words **did** hurt. Every hurtful word that came out of his parents' mouth was like a slap across the face.

"He's your son, too!"

"Are you making the money? No, I don't think so!"

"It was Donuts with Dad at Robbie's school today, and he was the only one who didn't bring his father! You spend more time with your patients then you do with your own son. I don't even know why I put up with it!"

"Jesus, what do you want me to do? Pay for his school, or eat lunch there! I can't do both!"

"You know what, I'm done with this. Just done."

Robbie cringed as he heard a door slam, followed by profound swearing. He strained his ears to discern if they were finished, and once he assured himself that it was all clear, he crawled out from his hiding space and climbed back onto the bed. He was just getting used to the silence when a sharp knock on the door made him jump.

"Robbie, honey, are you in there? It's Mummy."

He remained mute, but she still opened the door.

"Robbie sweetie, Mummy and Daddy are fighting right now, but you know we'll always love you. You know that, right?"

He nodded, eyes wide, clutching Snuggles the bear.

"Well Daddy is going to go away for a while, but he'll be back soon. He just needs to think about things. Do you understand?"

He wanted to scream that no, he didn't understand. But he knew that would just make Mummy tired, so all he did was nod his head, and hold Snuggles even closer, keeping a stranglehold around his neck.

"You're such a good little boy. I don't know what I would do without you. Give your Mummy a hug, then, and go to sleep now."

Robbie allowed himself to be kissed and tucked into bed before he finally spoke.

"Good night, Mummy."

It came out as a whisper, and she just smiled and replied,

"Good night, Robbie."

8 years later

The second time his father left, it was much quieter. His mother was passed out on the couch, reeking of cheap alcohol and snoring softly. He was sitting at the kitchen table, steadily working his way through his Chemistry homework. He wasn't a little boy anymore; he didn't need to hide.

Rowan Chase didn't even say good-bye; he just walked right out of his own family. Robert could tell himself that he would come back, that he just needed to think, but deep down he knew that wasn't the case.

His mother stirred on the couch.

"Robbie, honey what's going on?"

Her words came out in a slurred mumble.

"Nothing, Mum. Nothing's wrong."

But somewhere in his head a voice was telling him that it was all his fault. That if he had just been a better son, his father wouldn't have left him. And that was when he decided to become a doctor, to make his dad proud of him.


	2. Cuddy

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own anything...

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Tell me (nicely) what you think!

Lisa Cuddy

Age 10

"Lisa can't do anything; she's just a dumb old **girl**!"

Lisa Cuddy hated being the youngest. She loathed being the only girl. But she absolutely despised being the youngest girl in a family of six. Not including her parents. She often wondered what had possessed them to have five boys. Five. It still baffled her, even when her mother lovingly told her that they were trying for a girl, every time.

"Lisa, darling, come inside and help Mommy in the kitchen. Don't you want to learn how to make apple pie?"

She wanted to say that NO, she didn't want to become a slave to the kitchen the way her mother had. She would much rather go outside and steal her youngest brother's blue jeans and shoot birds with a BB gun, just to see what their insides looked like.

But instead she was forced to be her mother's doll, wearing dresses every day, with bows and shiny shoes, and learning how to iron clothes and make dinner. Honestly, you would think she was living in the Victorian Era, the way her mother just assumed that her daughter would want nothing more than to marry a nice boy right out of high school and have a big family and be a housewife.

Lisa was already determined to be her own person, not some a puppet to some man. She went to the library after school every day and claimed she was at the neighbors' house, because she knew her mother didn't see the importance of the library.

It was almost pitiable, really, the way Lisa already looked down on her own mother. She knew that back when her mom was her age, college was out of the question for most girls. H3ll, it was out of the question for many boys, too. They lived in a small town, still stuck in the past. Girls, like children, were seen and not heard.

"Really, Lisa, you'd think you weren't even interested! You have to put cinnamon **and** sugar on the apples, or the pie will be sour and no good to eat. Don't you want your pie to be sweet?"

Sweet. Lisa despised being sweet. She wanted to be strong and independent, like Wonder Woman on TV. Not that she ever got to watch an entire episode of Wonder Woman. One of her imbecile brothers always changed the channel, so she had to watch their moronic shows.

"Lisa! Are you even listening to me? For the last time, go call your brothers, its dinner time. And make sure they wipe their feet and wash their hands, I just cleaned the house."

That's when Lisa snapped.

"NO! I don't **want** to call my brothers, call them yourself! And I don't **care** about how much sugar goes in a stupid apple pie, and I sure as h3ll don't give a dmn whether or not they wash their hands. They can get Salmonella and **die**, for all I care!"

She threw the pot holder she'd been holding to the floor and stormed up to her room. It was the sole good thing about being the only girl, really; she got her own bedroom.

Lisa knew she'd broken her mother's heart that day, but it was too late to worry about that. She was bent on going to college and becoming a doctor, the best doctor, and she wasn't about to let her parents ruin her dreams with apple pies and propriety.

Present Day

"Dr. Cuddy? Dr. Cuddy!"

She woke up with a jolt.

"Sorry, dozed off there, what were you saying, Dr. Wu?"

Her mind was still thinking about the dream she'd had. It wasn't actually a dream; it was more of a memory. It was ironic, really, how she was dressed in bows and shiny shoes 30 years after she swore she'd never wear them again. But that was the price she had to pay for being the best. She'd become distant, lonely. But she had achieved her goal. So she should be happy, right?


	3. Foreman

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love reviews, especially nice ones. Anyway, here is the next chapter, tell me what yout think (but don't be mean, please!)

Eric Foreman

Age 8

"Eric, baby, what happened? Who did this to you?"

He kept his mouth shut tight. Even at eight years old, he knew that you didn't rat people out, if you wanted to keep your face intact. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and cast his eyes downward.

"Fine, but will you at least let me clean you up? Your lip is bleeding everywhere, and you're going to have a heck of a shiner tomorrow."

Eric sat still while his mother cleaned the blood off his lip, and put an ice pack over his eye.

"Okay, now just sit there while I cook dinner, alright?"

He tried to remain motionless, but being eight years old, he started to fidget after a couple of minutes. His concentration was completely blown when he heard the apartment door opening.

"**Daddy**! You're home early!"

Michael Foreman smiled and staggered when his young son came hurtling at him, he ran fast for such a little guy.

"Ooof! You're getting big, son. What happened to your face, you look like you had a run in with a bear!"

Eric was suddenly sheepish. He idolized his father, and he didn't want to admit that the other boys at school picked on him. He quickly changed the subject.

"Guess what Daddy, guess what? I got a 100 on my math test today! I knew all of my multiplication tables, so I got a sticker!"

With that, he thrust out his hand triumphantly, revealing a "Great Job!" sticker stuck to it.

"Well son, it looks like you did good. Pretty soon, you'll be even smarter than me!"

That evening, as he lay in bed trying to sleep, he could hear his parents' conversation in the kitchen. Their apartment was pretty cheap, so the walls were thin.

"What are we going to do? If this keeps getting worse, he'll be dead before he graduates college!"

"Now don't you think you're overreacting, honey? He's tough; he'll learn to defend himself."

"I don't want to do this anymore, Michael. I want to move out of this dmn neighborhood, to somewhere where my baby will be safe."

"To where, exactly? Anywhere we can afford to go will be just as bad. Maybe if I get that promotion, we can think about it. But for now, we're just going to have to tolerate this, okay sweetie?"

"Okay, Michael, but I don't like it."

8 years later

Age 16

He had been a disappointment. Sure, he could blame what he had done on the neighborhood, but in the end he had been responsible for his own actions, and he knew it. His parents had worked hard to give him everything, and this was how he repaid them.

Spending the night in a jail cell certainly made you think. He'd been stupid, letting himself be talked into stealing that car. He didn't know why he'd done it; he didn't even need a car. Maybe he just wanted to be accepted. He'd spent his entire childhood being the brainy outcast, and this had been his chance to finally fit in.

But it didn't work, of course. They'd been caught, and ended up riding in the back of a police car instead of a BMW. And now he was waiting for his parents to bail him out; waiting to see the disappointment in their eyes when they realized that their son had let them down.

He swore that this was the last time he would be a disappointment. He could be a doctor; every parent wants their child to be a doctor, right? He knew he had the brains, and if he worked hard enough, he could get there. And he would, just to get out of the hole he'd dug himself into.


	4. Wilson

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Please tell me what you think about this one!

James Wilson

Age 9

"Jimmy, baby, don't forget your lunch. I gave you a cookie. It's peanut butter, your favorite."

Jimmy allowed his doting mother to plant a kiss on his cheek, knowing that it would be easier than pushing her away in the long run. He couldn't keep from rolling his eyes, however, when she began to fuss with his hair.

"Bye, Mom."

"Bye sweetie! Come straight home, okay? Don't get into any trouble."

He had learned to live with his mother's over-protectiveness. His dad was at work most of the time, and that left Mrs. Wilson to deal with three unruly boys. Her worst fear was sending one of her sons out to play and never seeing him again.

Jimmy did well in school, teachers liked him and he always did his homework; usually out of boredom. Science was his favorite, but he loved all his classes. He would have been an outcast had he not been so charismatic. He was constantly smiling, and he had no reason not to. From what little he had seen, the world was a happy place.

He knew something was wrong the minute he began to walk up the driveway. It was a moment before he realized that there weren't any cars in the driveway. His brothers hadn't come home with him, one was held after school and the other at a friends' house. Jimmy was suddenly apprehensive, but he forced his feet to take him to the house.

Silence permeated the air, the only sound breaking the quiet was the steady _tick_ of the clock in the kitchen.

"Mom? Mommy?"

His voice echoed throughout the house, and Jimmy knew he was alone. Suddenly panicked, he ran up the stairs.

"Mommy? Where are you, Mommy?"

He stopped dead when he reached the master bedroom. It looked like it had been ransacked; drawers were pulled out and the closet door was open, revealing nothing but empty hangers. He was so fixed on the sight before him that he didn't even hear the man come up behind him. He felt a tap on his shoulder, cried out, and then everything went black.

"Jimmy, wake up. Wake up, son."

"Who are you?"

"Jim, it's me. Dad."

"Oh. What happened to Mom? What happened to her?"

Jimmy began to panic, and his father put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know how to tell you this, Jimmy, but your mother... Well, she…. What I'm trying to say is; she wasn't happy with her life. With me. And I guess it got to be too much for her. So she left."

"Where did she go? Why didn't she say good bye?"

"I don't know, son. I just don't know."

5 years later

Age 14

**Slap!**

"How could you do this to me, Jimmy? I trusted you! I **loved** you, dammit! And you went to the movies with my **best friend**! Can you **be** any sleazier?"

"Look, Caitlin, I'm sor-"

"Sorry doesn't cut it! We're done!"

Jimmy Wilson was no longer the naïve boy he'd been 5 years ago. He never understood how his mother could just leave him behind. Sure, she couldn't stand his dad; that made sense. But he'd never done anything to make her mad at him. Had he?

4 ½ years ago, his dad had married a perky blonde who had been a partial cause of his mother's departure. Apparently his dad really had known what drove his wife away. Mrs. Wilson the second doted on him while her husband was around, but in reality she could care less about her stepson.

Their once happy family was falling apart. His oldest brother, Peter, hung around with the wrong kind of people; was always getting in trouble with the cops for vandalism and/or loitering. Nick, the middle son, was starting to drift away. He had always been the one who got lost in the shuffle, and now it was almost as if he didn't care about anything anymore. He had all but disappeared.

Present Day

Really, his dad had taught Jimmy a valuable lesson. Push everyone away before they push you first. And he followed his advice faithfully, never staying with the same woman long enough for her to get bored and dump him. His heart remained intact, but it was as though a thin layer of dust coated it, blanketing it while it slept. He never felt heartbreak, but he never truly felt anything at all. He could make all the excuses he wanted for his philandering ways, but in the end he was just protecting himself.


	5. Cameron

**Author's Note: **This is the second to last chapter, after this is House. (I know a lot of you are looking forward to that one, lol) Anyway, please please write a review!

Allison Cameron

Age 6

Allie didn't understand a lot of things. She didn't understand why her daddy left her, even though he sometimes called to say he was sorry. She didn't understand why Mommy was always yelling at her for everything. All Allie wanted to do was make Mommy like her. But Mommy was always angry, and Allie could never make her happy.

6 years later

Age 12

"Allison Charlotte Cameron, get your skinny little ss in here! I mean it!"

Allison rolled her eyes, and ignored her mother's calls until finally she couldn't take it anymore. She wrenched open her bedroom door and stormed into the kitchen.

"What the h3ll do you want? I'm busy."

"Don't you talk like that to me, missy. And I **want** you to clean up the mess you made in here. You're a selfish little slob, you know that? How long would it take you to just put your dishes in the dmn dishwasher?"

Allison fought the tears that were burning in the back of her eyes, threatening to roll down her cheeks any minute. It was funny how her mother could destroy any traces of rebellion in her with one degrading sentence.

"I'm sorry, mom."

It was meant to come out as a yell, but somehow all she could manage was a feeble whisper. She mentally slapped herself for not being more confident. Before she could make a move towards the counter where the offending dishes lay, the shrill ring of the phone pierced the air.

"Get that."

Her mother's tone was snappish, authoritative.

"Hello."

"Alligator? It's Daddy."

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to talk to my little girl. I feel like I barely know you anymore."

"Yeah, well whose fault is that, huh?"

"Alligator, I want to get to know you better, and you're not being very helpful."

"Well, sorry, Dad, but **you're** the one who left, and **you're** the one who never comes to see me, and I don't give a **sh!t **how well you know me, okay? Because you've been just about the worst dad in the history of forever, and I wish you would die! And **don't** call me an Alligator! I'm not a freaking reptile!"

Allison slammed the phone down, tears streaming down her face. Before her mother even had a chance to speak, she made a break for the door, grabbing her shoes on the way out.

She couldn't remember actually deciding where she was going, but she found herself puttering to a stop in front of the library. The cool air conditioning hit her as she walked in, making her shiver involuntarily.

"Hello, dear. Is everything alright?"

The old lady behind the desk looked somewhat concerned as she took in the angry preteen, who was striding purposefully towards the Non-Fiction section.

Allison didn't even bother to answer the lady's question, she just kept walking. She was humiliated by the fact that she was crying in public and she hadn't bothered to change out of the baggy sweatshirt and short shorts she'd been wearing around the house. She flung herself into one of the chairs in the Science area, knowing that nobody actually went there.

The tears were still coming as she internally berated herself. Why had she said those horrible things to her own father? She hadn't meant to, she loved her dad. She felt horrible, and lonely. Her mother never showed her any affection, and she'd blown any chance at a relationship with her dad. All she wanted was to be loved.

Present Day

Allison Cameron sat at her apartment, remembering. She'd been a train wreck as a teenager, always searching for validation and love in the wrong place, and always ending up with a broken heart.

She thought about House. Did she really love him? Or was it just another desperate plea for attention and approval? She knew she was stuck in a vicious cycle, forever giving love and never receiving. She didn't know if she purposely directed her affection in areas where it could never be returned, but she sure had made a pattern out of it.

Allison laughed scornfully at herself, and sat in silence for a while. Then suddenly it hit her like a ton of bricks. She knew what she had to do. She reached across the arm of the couch, and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Daddy, it's me. Your Alligator."


	6. House

**Author's Note: **Okay, a lot of people were mad about the blanking out curse words thing. But the truth was, I post this story somewhere else as well, and you have to blank out swear words there. And I kept forgetting to unblank them. Sorry! Here is the last chapter, please don't be mean about it!

Greg House

Age 8

"Daddy! Mommy! I won! I won the Science Fair!"

"Greg, honey, I'm so proud of you! Come give Mommy a kiss!"

Greg rolled his eyes, but he secretly didn't mind. He stood up on his toes and gave his mother a quick peck on the cheek. She wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug, and he almost forgot that they weren't the only ones in the room.

"Daddy, did you hear me? I got first place."

"I heard you son. Good job."

But his father's voice wasn't filled with pride the way his mother's was. Greg searched his dad's face for anything that would show he cared, but it was as though it was carved from stone. He looked in his eyes, and instead of joy there was emptiness, and something else. Disappointment, maybe? Disgust?

It flooded through him in an instant, a wave of self doubt and shame. What had he done to make his Daddy mad? Why wasn't he happy that his son was the best? The Science Fair didn't seem so important anymore, he was no longer pleased with his accomplishments.

Greg tried not to let his feelings show as he picked up his backpack and walked towards his room. He closed the door behind him and climbed up onto the bed. Holding a pillow to his chest, he fought the tears that were threatening to come. Real men didn't cry, and he didn't want to disappoint Daddy any more than he already had.

As he sat alone in silence, he could hear his parents' voices through the door.

"Why do you always do that, John? He was so happy, and you ruined it for him!"

"I did no such thing. He won his little Science Fair, so what? It's not that great of an achievement."

"Just because he doesn't want to play football and be a soldier doesn't mean he can't be successful, John! You can be so close-minded sometimes! He's a very smart little boy, and he just wants his father to be proud of him. Is that too much to ask?"

"It's humiliating! I expected him to carry on the tradition and be an officer like my father, and my grandfather. Instead he wastes his life by sticking his nose in a book. How do you expect me to deal with it?"

"Everything is always about you, John. You never once considered that maybe Greg doesn't want to be a soldier. Maybe there's something out there better suited to him. You can't just get over yourself and support your own son, can you? It's despicable."

Now Greg just felt worse. Not only was he a failure, he had made Mommy and Daddy angry with each other, and he never meant to do that. He just couldn't make anybody happy.

7 years later

Age 15

"Greg, son, come downstairs. I want you to meet some friends of mine."

"Sorry Dad, but I'd rather stick a screwdriver in my eyeball than meet anyone whose friends with **you**."

Greg House was a difficult teenager, he knew it, and he didn't care. He'd learned from experience that sarcasm masked pain. No one could hurt you if they were already preoccupied with their own wounds.

"Gregory House, you come down here right this instant and apologize. I'm ashamed of you."

"Oh, I'm crushed. I have no purpose left in life."

Five years ago, when he still wanted nothing more than to please his father, this would have been true. Now, he didn't give a dmn what his dad thought. He was immune to his condescending remarks and disdainful glares. That was what he told himself, anyway.

He lived in fear of someone discovering his secret. That his bitter, cynical exterior cloaked the insecurity beneath. He refused to let anyone too close, in case they discovered his secret.

Present Day

The infarction had been a blessing, really. It gave him an excuse to be a derisive ss. Now, people felt sorry for him, and looked at him with pity instead of repugnance. He wasn't sure which was worse.


End file.
